A Man's Heart (24 page)

T
wo days later, Jules and Crystal stepped into Mellon's Mortuary. Memories of Pop and Sophie flooded Jules as they took their seat in a near empty chapel. Lucille had outlived most of her friends, and only a stray mourner sat here and there. Cruz and Adan sat in the third row, alone. Jules recalled how the two brothers had taken care of the elderly woman's house repairs and mowed for her in the summers. When she offered to pay, they had never taken a cent.

Lucille's sons, daughters-in-law, grandchildren and great grandchildren filed into the curtained family room, and the service began.

Jules counted the floral offerings, and including theirs, Lucille had six. Very pretty, but so insignificant for the many years of service in this community. Lucille had taught Sunday school since Jules was a child. She'd been in the Women's Sewing Circle, volunteer librarian and self-appointed cookie and casserole maker for the entire community.

Burial was family only, so immediately after the service Jules and Crystal walked to the truck. A man's voice called, “Crystal Matias?”

Crystal turned. “Yes?”

Jules recognized Lucille's oldest son. The family, as Lucille suggested, was upscale. The women wore Burberry suits and large flashing diamonds. Men were dressed in Italian suits and alligator shoes. Jaguars, Mercedes and Lincolns lined the parking curb in front of the funeral home.

Walking toward them, he removed a letter from his pocket. “We found this on Mom's bedroom night stand. It's addressed to you.” He handed the note to Crystal.

“Thank you. I'm very sorry about your mother. She was a lovely woman.”

Without comment, he turned and strode to a Lincoln and got in.

Crystal unfolded the note. “Wonder why Lucille would leave me a note?”

“She liked you, and you were very good to her.” Jules watched as her sister's eyes scanned the message.

Crystal's jaw dropped.

“What?” Jules leaned closer to read the note.

Cruz spotted the dust trail from the field. Someone was in a big hurry. Wheeling the tractor, he drove to the edge of the fence
row to identify the maniac. These young farm hands drove like the wind. Jules's mini SUV came into view and he frowned.

Killing the engine, he jumped from the tractor and headed for the fence. Jules pulled up, standing the Tracker on end. She piled out, followed by Crystal.

His heart hit his stomach. “What's wrong? One of the kids hurt?”

Gasping now, Jules said, “You have to come with us.”

“What's wrong? Is Ethan hurt?”

“No!” Crystal stood beside the Tracker, wringing her hands. “Get Adan. We have to search the Pasco dump.”

“What?”

“The dump!” Jules screamed. “We have to find Lucille's
mattress.”
She whirled to face Crystal. “You're sure the junk man took it to the dump?”

“He said he was on his way when he picked it up.”

“Okay. Calm down.” Jules drew a deep breath. “We have to stay calm. He picked it up yesterday. With any luck, we can find it.”

Cruz stared at the babbling women. They didn't make a lick of sense. “Anybody care to fill me in on the crisis? Where are the kids? Are they all right?”

“They're fine. I left them with Anne. Lucille gave Crystal her prized mattress, and I told her to have it hauled to the dump.”

“Why would you want Lucille's mattress?”

“I
didn't
want it! It was ugly and an eyesore, but Lucille left Crystal a note on her bedside table, saying that her life's fortune was in that mattress. Over a million dollars!”

“A million dollars!” Cruz's jaw sagged. He cleared the fence with one bound.

“You drive,” Jules called. “I'm a nervous wreck!”

Wheeling the Tracker around, Cruz floored the gas pedal. A couple of miles down the road they picked up Adan, who was plowing under the water deprived crop. With little more than “get in!” Adan was drafted into the search party. Crystal filled him in on the crisis as the vehicle sped down the road.

Forty-five minutes later, the truck turned into Pasco Sanitary Landfill. Bulldozers worked to bury monstrous piles of refuse in smelly graves.

The four piled out of the truck and ran willy-nilly, trying to spot a mattress. The monumental task was like trying to find a gallstone in a hospital compactor.

“Somebody better get permission for us to be digging around out here!” Cruz called. The last thing they needed was to be thrown in jail for looting.

Jules volunteered. Cruz figured she was about to lose her lunch anyway.

Permission to dig in Pasco's ruins didn't come easy; only when Jules explained the unusual request were the machines shut down.

Since a mattress wasn't a small item to spot, trash surprisingly blended. Four hours later, dirty, hot, discouraged and tired, the four piled back in the Tracker, a million dollars short of their goal.

The stench in close quarters forced the occupants to roll down windows and air out the stink.

Jules glanced over and burst into laughter. She pointed to Cruz. “You have ketchup on your shirt.”

“Oh yeah?” Cruz pointed to an imaginary spot on her shirt, and then flipped her nose when she fell for the oldest trick in the world.

Even with the stench, the four were hungry. No one had
eaten since breakfast. Cruz pulled into a drive-through and ordered four burgers, four fries, and four super-sized Cokes.

Over inhaled dinner, the men questioned Crystal. “You're sure the junk man was on his way to the landfill?”

“He said he was.”

“Did you call to check and see if he made it?”

Crystal shook her head. “I didn't think to do that.”

Adan bit into his burger and spoke around a mouthful. “Maybe we should check.”

They finished up, and Cruz pulled out of the fast food drive. Tooling down the highway, they made their plan.

“Who took the mattress?” Cruz asked.

“I don't know … the truck said Smart Refuse.”

“Old man Smart,” Adan said. “He lives out on Road 36.”

It was nearing ten o'clock when they drove into Smart's drive. Not a light shone in the house.

Cruz and Jules stepped out of the SUV and walked to the door and knocked. It took several attempts to rouse the old man. Dogs barked. When he opened the door, Jules spotted a shotgun propped by the door.

Cruz nodded. “Sorry to bother you at this hour, Mr. Smart, but we have an emergency.”

The man eyed Cruz in the dim porch light. “State your business.”

“I'm Cruz Delgado — I live off Road 29?”

“Buff Delgado's boy?”

“Yes sir.”

He opened the screen. “What's the emergency?”

“We're looking for a mattress you hauled away yesterday.”

“Yesterday?”

“From the Matiases'?”

“Sure. What about it?”

“Did you take it to the landfill?”

“No.”

“Where is it?”

“In my garage. Why?” “We need it back.”

“What for? It's no good. I put it in the garage for my dogs to sleep on.”

Reaching for his wallet, Cruz offered, “I'll give you a hundred dollars for it.”

“A hundred dollars?”

“Yeah—Crystal's decided she should keep it.”

“Tell her to take it. It's hers anyway.”

Cruz pushed the bill into the older man's hand. “No, you take this for your trouble. Seems Lucille Miller left some money in it intended for Crystal.”

“You don't say!”

Cruz nodded. Jules knew that Smart was a fair man. He wouldn't claim ownership.

“Load ‘er up. Just watch the dogs. One of ‘em will bite the fire outta you.” He closed the door, hundred dollar bill in hand.

Jules wondered which one. Smart forgot to say.

Fifteen minutes later, and after a minor skirmish with a tenacious mutt, Cruz pulled the vehicle onto the highway with a large ratty looking mattress tied to the top.

When the final count was tallied, Crystal Matias had a cool million, five hundred, twenty-six dollars, two quarters, three dimes and four pennies. Lucille had scrimped and saved all of her life, stuffing her fortune in her mattress.

Well, good for Crystal, Jules decided.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

A
million dollars altered a custody battle, all parties concerned knew it. Crystal and Jules now had the funds to fight him and Adan until the kids were grown. The idea hung in Cruz's mind when Jules glanced at the clock and noted the time. The children would be asleep, but the Ramseys would be wondering what happened to Jules.

“You better give Ann a call and let her know where we are,” Cruz reminded.

Jules reached for her cell phone and dialed. Crystal started to clear the table of Coke cups, seemingly unaffected by her sudden windfall. “The Tracker won't hold all four of us and the children. Why don't I take Adan home, Cruz can go with Jules to pick up the children, and then she can drop Cruz off on the way home?”

Yawning, Adan stretched. “Sounds good to me. I'm beat.” Sitting back in his chair, he grinned. “How does it feel to be a millionaire?”

Crystal paused, studying the thought. “Exactly the way it felt to be dirt poor.”

He glanced at Jules and winked. “You'll be like Jules and
her magic potato plant. You'll have to fight the men away now.”

Jules clicked off from talking to Ann Ramsey. “She says the kids are doing fine. I told her we'd be over in a few minutes to pick them up.”

The four left the house together. Adan spoke up. “Hey, Crystal, can you drive me by the field on the way home? I forgot to put a lock on the tractor.”

Cruz frowned.

“Hey,” Adan apologized. “Everything happened so fast I didn't get a chance to lock down the equipment.”

“Sure, I'll take you by the field.” Crystal and Adan walked to the farm pick-up while Jules and Cruz headed for the Tracker.

Jules had purchased the vehicle her senior year so the interior was as familiar to Cruz as it was to Jules. They'd spent hours in the truck, talking, dreaming of their future.

“When we marry, I want kids right away.”

“How many?”

“Two.”

“What if I want three or four?”

He leaned to kiss her. “Why not make it six? That's a good even number.”

Familiar bitterness rose to the back of his throat. Everyone told him to get over her; well he'd tried, but everywhere he turned she was there. Lending him equipment. Raising Sophie's kids, flaunting the notion that she was about to create a potato that would stun the world.

Jules pitched the keys at him. “You drive.”

He caught them, resenting the familiarity the simple act invoked. She'd never driven when they were together. She
didn't like to drive. She preferred sitting next to him, her arm around his shoulder as he drove. They slid into the vehicle and he started the engine. She sat far to his right, crowding the door. Was she fighting her memories? The big scene she made the other night: “You're right, Cruz. I loved you.” Was that an emotional outburst or a fact?

If it was a fact, then she'd lost the battle. He'd asked her twice to marry him and both times she had walked away. He wouldn't give her a third chance even if it meant he had to fight her for the children the rest of his life. And fight his feelings for her.

Marry and settle down, she suggested.

If that's what it took, he'd do it; Jules was not going to back him into a corner on this one, but how did he find a woman that he could love as much as he loved this one sitting beside him? The thought irked him, but it was there, bold as orange hair.